


Never Go to Bed Angry

by devdevlin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angry Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hate Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tomione Smut Fest 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 08:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16036688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devdevlin/pseuds/devdevlin
Summary: Hermione and Tom are always fighting, but something was bound to change eventually.





	Never Go to Bed Angry

**Author's Note:**

> *hem hem* this is for the 2018 smutfest, and my selected prompt was 'hate sex'.  
> I feel like this should be warning enough, but... if you are triggered by abusive relationships, then proceed with caution

It wasn't anything new.

That Hermione and Tom would fight was as sure a thing as that the sun would rise.

Harry and Theo had hoped they'd move past their differences. Nine months they'd been dating, and for all nine, Tom and Hermione had been given all the chances in the world to get along.

Nine _fucking_ months, and they still hated each other just as much as the first day they'd met, possibly even more so.

And so, that evening as they and the rest of Harry's close friendship circle sat around the dining table of the burrow, and Hermione was attempting to teach Ron and Harry how to calculate the concentrations they needed for their upcoming chemistry class, no one in attendance was even _remotely_ surprised when Tom scoffed at Hermione's visible frustration.

"...so, if you take the raw amount that you _have_ , and divide it by the concentration you _need_ , then - _is something_ _funny_?" Hermione's eyes narrowed, shooting knives across the table.

"No," Tom said innocently enough, before gesturing to her end of the table. "Other than this train wreck, that is."

Hermione made a squeak of indignation. "Chemistry is a very complex class! Not everyone has as natural a grasp as you-"

"Oh no, I wasn't referring to Weasley's inability to understand simple numbers, I meant your poor attempt of what I assume you intended to be teaching."

Her squeak was louder this time.

The whites of Ginny's eyes showed, and Harry had to try very hard not to laugh, while Ron's ears slowly turned a shade of scarlet.

"Tom-"

Theo's good intention of preventing an argument was squashed as Hermione cut him off, "I don't see _you_ rushing to lend a hand! But of course you wouldn't, not while Professor Slughorn's not watching." She turned her nose up.

"I'm not sure what you're implying, but I'm certain that both Weasley and Potter are far beyond my help," he said in a pleasant manner that didn't match his words.

" _Tom-_ "

"I'm _implying_ that you'd never dream of doing anything without getting something in return!"

Tom shrugged. "Maybe you'd do well to follow suit. Last I checked, I'm a solid six percent ahead of you."

"As someone with a _conscience_ , I'd much rather help my friends than get a perfect score!" Hermione snapped as her cheeks caught fire. "Although I'm sure you can't relate to that, seeing as _you_ don't have any."

As Tom's right eyebrow curved upward, Harry cleared his throat. "Um... so if I have five grams, then...?"

Seeing that Tom had seemingly chosen to keep his mouth shut, Hermione let out a long, impatient sigh, and returned her attention back to Harry and Ron. "If you _have_ five grams of solute, you then divide it by the concentration you _need_ in grams per litre, and the answer will give you the volume you need to resuspend it in the same units as-"

"That's really not the best way to explain it, you know."

Hermione slammed her palms down upon the table. " _Will you just sod off already?!_ "

Tom leaned back lazily as he laughed, the unbothered action succeeding to rile Hermione up even further.

"Why are you even here? The only one who likes you is Theo, and he's only here to see Harry!"

"Ginny wants me here," Tom stated confidently, his dark eyes glancing to where she sat fiddling with her phone. "Don't you, Ginny?"

"Err... yeah," Ginny said as she straightened, seeming suspiciously like she hadn't been listening. "Yeah, I suppose so."

Tom's smile was the epitome of smug.

"She's only saying that because you put her on the spot!"

"She sounded like she meant it to me."

"There's no need to drag Ginny into it. Both Theo and Tom know that they're welcome here, Hermione," Harry interjected calmly. 

" _See?_ "

Hermione's accusatory stare turned in Harry's direction, and seeing an opportunity, Ron slowly rose from his seat and slinked out of the room. Ginny, ever the opportunist, wasn't far behind.

"I guess I'll be handing in a half-finished assignment then," Ron stated glumly once they were safely in the living room. "I'd rather face Snape any day than sit through another one of their rows."

Ginny snorted. "She's going to kill him one of these days."

"Good," said Ron. Seeing Ginny's frown, he shrugged. "What? He doesn't need to be such a git all the time."

"He's only like that to _her_."

"Are you having a laugh? He's bloody awful-"

Ron's words were lost as the living room door was pushed open and Hermione's shrieking could faintly be heard, "-that's _rich,_ coming from _you_ -"

Peace was returned to the room as Theo pulled the door closed behind himself and Harry.

"Well," Theo said as the silence almost grew awkward. "I suppose we best get comfortable. We could be here a while."

 

* * *

 

Hermione circled around the table, a lioness stalking her prey. "That's not the _point_ , you _monumental_ \- _prick._ " Her use of Ron's choice words were punctuated by her finger prodding into Tom's irritatingly firm chest.

His eyes flashed as he swatted her hand away. "Don't touch me."

"Oh? And just what are you going to do? Have Pansy come at me in the girl’s bathroom again?" She jabbed once more. " _And don't you dare deny it,_ I _know_ it was you who put her up to it!"

"You won't like me when I'm angry," he warned as he stopped her from prodding him again and shoved her back by the shoulders.

"I _already_ don't like you, or as thick as you are _arrogant?_ "

His nostrils flared, and his usual composed posture was slightly hunched as he glared to kill. It was an odd look, one which held _something_ that wasn't quite anger that she couldn't place, and she had the sudden notion that perhaps she ought to be scared.

"I-” she began, feeling her confidence starting to waver under the sheer intensity of his stare. "You know, I really don't need to put up with you," she declared, turning on her heel and heading for the hall connecting the kitchen to the dining room.

She barely made it halfway down before she heard his footsteps behind her.

"Running away, Granger? You are many things, but I never thought a _quitter_ was one of them."

At the taunt in his voice, her building fear was squashed flat as quickly as it had arisen. She stopped in her tracks and whirled back to face him, index finger pointed.

"You don't know the first thing about me, _Riddle-_ "

"You're a stubborn little _bitch_ , who cannot _bare_ to be proven wrong, particularly in front of that pathetic weasel you follow around so _desperately_ -"

Hermione had no recollection of launching herself at him, but at some point, she must have done, for one moment he'd called her a bitch, and the next, he was wrangling her arms down as she attempted to claw at each and any part of him she could reach.

_Don't touch him?_ She didn't have a single care for how close it put them, she'd touch every part of him if it meant it bothered him!

She struggled against his grip and, seeing the opening, shot her foot out to collide with his shin.

While he grunted in pain, Hermione took the opportunity to wrench an arm free and push her palm flat against his face, maximising the contact before she pushed him back as hard as she could. She barely heard the growl he released before he took hold of her wrists and slammed her backward onto the hallway wall. She let out a loud 'oomph' at the impact, and quickly struggled against his grip.

"Get _off_ of me-"

"-you're fucking _insane-_ "

"-this is _assault_ -"

"-stop _kicking-_ "

Hermione won her freedom with a well-timed knee to his stomach.

Seeing two options ahead of her, she swung a sudden right to duck into the bathroom. She went to slam the door behind her, just for it to be pushed back by a large, pale hand.

"Come on, _Hermione_ ," he said, his tone suddenly utterly oozing with a dangerous sweetness. "I just want to talk."

"I’m not letting you in! How _daft_ do you think I am?!" She screeched back as she pushed back against the door.

She almost didn't hear his laugh. "Marginally less so than the buffoons you call friends."

Yet again, he managed to press the _exact_ buttons to instil a blind rage within her. She threw her body weight against the door, an animalistic shriek erupting from her throat. " _You're such a - such a... pig!_ "

"Can't you do any better than that, Granger?" he quipped around another laugh and with a solid shove, she was thrown back from the door, hitting her pelvis hard against the sink. It would surely bruise.

"I - _hate_ \- you - you - _absolutely_ \- _vile_ \- _orphaned_ \- _prat!_ " She yelled as the pain along with his taunting threw her over the edge, punctuating each word with a shove in his direction. But it was only once the words were out and she tried to catch her breath that she noticed the way he'd flinched at the word 'orphaned', and she realised that she _might’ve_ gone too far.

And then she noticed his eyes.

_They were on fire._

"I didn't mean that-"

But her apology was lost as he moved quicker than she could comprehend, tangling his fingers through her hair and gripping into the locks at the back of her head. He pulled down harshly, forcing her neck to crane upward to meet his eyes at his sudden proximity.

"You think you're so much better than me," he uttered lowly in almost a whisper.

"That's not true, I-"

"You," he sneered, "a nobody, a _mudblood_ , born to _dentists_ and who can barely afford to send you to school, let alone the clothing on your back."

This time it was she who flinched.

"What do _you_ have that's so much better?"

She lashed out with all of her limbs, but his other hand and long legs prevented her from making any impact. She tried to free her hair from his tight hold, but to no avail. And so, trapped like a wild animal with a reignited fury that she couldn't control, she did the only thing she could.

_She spat at him._

She had a short moment of gratification as surprise crossed his features, but it faded quickly, transforming into an emotionless mask. He held her eye contact as he slowly brought one of his hands out of her hair to wipe where her saliva had landed on his cheek. His other hand pulled her hair harder, the pressure intensifying to a point that she was scared he'd take a chunk out.

"You will regret that."

She tilted her head back as far as it would go to alleviate some of the pressure, wincing as she did so.

And then Hermione, ignoring how cold his words had been, managed to utter what was possibly either the bravest or stupidest thing to ever leave her lips.

" _Doubtful_."

She didn't get to see the effect her daring comment had on him. She didn't get the chance to ponder at all, for the next moment, the space between them disappeared and he was _on_ her.

He wasn't gentle; he kissed her like he hated her, his lips rough and forceful. With the roots of her hair still begging for release, she was unable to pull away as he pushed her backward until she was almost perched upon the sink. In protest, she dug her nails into his shoulders through his shirt as hard as she physically could, the action eliciting a low rumble in his chest.

She responded to him on autopilot as pit of her stomach acknowledged that the sound wasn't entirely unpleasant, and she momentarily entertained the thought that she shouldn't have been surprised that Tom Riddle was a little bit of a masochist.

He took her participation as an opportunity to pull her lip between his teeth, hard enough to make her growl, and the slight movement she felt from where his waist was pressed against her told her that apparently, Tom Riddle might also be a sadist.

But the bite was precisely the spur she needed, reminding her of just how much she _loathed_ him to the core, how she _detested_ everything about him, and so she began to kiss him back equally as roughly, because he would not win this, no. Not this time, _not ever_. He would not use her, because _she_ would use _him_.

As their urgency increased, Tom's other hand moved to roam down her body, lingering at her thighs. He trailed back upward, pulling her skirt along with him, and dug his fingers into her skin so tightly that she couldn't withhold a gasp of pain.

"Am I hurting you?"

"What do you think?!"

His teeth flashed. "Good."

Finally, _finally_ , he released her hair, and the feeling of relief made her moan into his mouth. As he pushed skirt all the way up, she brought her legs up, wrapping them around him to regain some form of control over the situation. She knew he wouldn't like it, being the control freak that he was, and she was proven correct as he broke off their kiss to push her body downward so that she was awkwardly almost-lying on the counter.

"What's the matter?" She asked, trying for a mocking tone, though her voice came out more breathless than she intended. "Afraid of a woman who knows what she wants?"

"I don't mind it, no," he said just as breathlessly, unwrapping one of her legs from his waist and making quick work of her underwear. "I just don't want to give it to you."

"You're a prick."

He made a sound close to a laugh and undid his belt, staring down at her exposed body all the while.

"You know," he gruffed as he freed himself from the confines of his clothing, "as much as I would love to spread your legs and see if you taste as I imagine, I don't think you deserve it, you – fucking - _bitch._ "

This time, she didn't respond to the insult. She couldn't, for at his words, he moved forward, sliding himself into her to the hilt in a single thrust with little care that she was only partially wet, and all coherent thought was out the window.

_God,_ it had been so _long._

Her moan was washed out by the sound of his louder groan, for it had been just as long since Tom had indulged, and her warm, _tight_ walls welcomed him like he was coming home.

Her back dug into the sink painfully as he began to move, but she hardly noticed. Once the pain of his entry passed, she was quickly overcome. It wasn’t long before she forgot about anything but the feel of him and his cock, stretching her gloriously as he began to push deep into her, so deep that each thrust was laced with the blissful pain of being filled completely.

"This is the quietest-" he grunted, "-I've ever seen you."

"Would you - _oh god_ \- prefer it if I wasn't?"

"You should have told me sooner," he grunted, pulling out of her much too soon, and leaving her flushed and agonisingly empty. "If I'd known all I needed to do was fuck you, I'd have quietened you much sooner."

She didn't have time to retort as he grabbed her hips tightly and pulled her up before he turned her around and pulled her arse outward. He pushed her head down, causing it to fall back onto the counter loudly, making her shriek in pain.

" _Ow!_ You _fucking_ asshole."

His large hands pulled her wrists together before she could strike out at him. He kept them behind her back with one hand while the other laced around her neck, tightening around the delicate skin. "For once, Granger. Be quiet."

But the next moment, his request was impossible to heed, for his cock drove deeper at the new angle, hitting _precisely_ the right spot.

" _Oh fuck, Tom-_ "

"Are you-" he broke off as he slammed into her gloriously, hard enough to push her head into the wall, "-incapable of following a simple instruction?"

She bit into her lip to keep herself quiet and surely drew blood as he drove back into her mercilessly, taking his time between each movement that made her toes curl.

Even with her mouth clamped closed, she couldn’t help the small sounds that formed in her throat each time he drove into her. She'd never been fucked so roughly, so carelessly, and without facing him, it was simple enough for her to forget just who it was giving her what might’ve been a contender for the best fuck of her life.

"Has the redhead ever made you feel this way?"

His voice wasn't even too far out. Deep and smooth, it wasn't too hard for her to imagine that it didn't belong to Tom Riddle, that it was Ron instead who was behind her, making her legs weak, bringing her closer and closer with each hard movement, _in and out, and back and forth, and-_

He stopped.

The frustrated sob that escaped her sounded foreign.

His hand tightened around her neck, blocking her windpipe and drawing her body upward against him. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, _Hermione_."

" _Please_ -"

"Please _what?_ "

"I need..." she tried to control the trembling of her legs and wriggled against him, needing just _any_ friction.

" _Answer me._ " His voice, low and dangerous, sent chills down her spine.

"No," she gasped out, tightening her lower muscles around him, needing him to _move_ , "he never has."

He pulled out completely and dipped back into her, the movement not _quite_ enough to drive her over the edge, but just enough to keep her torturously near. He loosened his grip on her neck enough for her to gasp for air, while his hold on her wrists tightened.

"Only me."

It wasn't clear whether he expected an answer or not, but when his fingers twitched around her neck, she ground out, "only you."

He sucked the flesh on her neck into his mouth, surely leaving a mark as the suction grew painful. She was about to push him off, not wanting a bruise in such an obvious location, but was rendered unable to as he pulled her back onto his cock hard and sped up the pace.

It was glorious, so glorious that she didn’t _care_ how much he marked her, as long as he didn’t stop, as long as he continued giving the perfect balance of pleasure weaved with pain with each pound of his hips, bringing her closer, and closer, and _fuck,_ so _close-_

And for the second time, she was left wanting.

He pulled back out of her with a low groan, just in time for his own release, and Hermione whimpered as she felt it, wet and warm, spilling onto her thigh.

She slowly turned back to face him once he'd finished, flushed and incredulous as her heart still pounded, holding herself up against the sink as her legs struggled to take her weight.

"I fucking _hate_ you."

“Don’t worry,” he smirked, looking wonderful and awful and _smug_ as he buckled his belt around his hips. "It'll be your turn next time."

 

* * *

 

"Oh my god," Ginny mumbled to herself after having investigated the thumping in the hallway after the kitchen grew uncomfortably quiet.

"What?" Ron asked as she stumbled back to the living room, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. "She hasn't killed him, has she?"

"Oh-oh no, no, no," Ginny said at once. "I, uh, actually think they've, err, made up."

"What? We should make sure she's okay, what if-"

Ginny stepped in front of him, arms blocking the door. "Don't go down there!"

"Why? What's he done, what are they - _oh_ ," Ron stumbled, seeing the pink of Ginny's cheeks. "Oh _, gross_ , ugh."

"What's gross?" Asked Harry.

"Nothing," Ginny squeaked, but the attempt was for naught, as Theo stepped in with a timely, "Tom and Hermione are fucking."

"Oh my god-"

" _Gross-"_

"Did we really need to know that-"

"But... my bathroom..."

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
